


Wondrous Folks

by cathymee



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Pre-Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 15:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathymee/pseuds/cathymee
Summary: Sam had been ill when he, along with Frodo and Pippin, had started to set out from Hobbiton.





	Wondrous Folks

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters and places mentioned in this fanfiction were made by Tolkien himself, and were merely borrowed for the sole purpose of entertainment. Y'all might not know what my real name is, but I can assure you that my surname isn't Tolkien. I only own the craziness.

"Look, Sam! Elves!"

Sam cannot remember when was the last time he had run off fast with Frodo. Perhaps when they were escaping from Farmer Maggot along with Master Merry when he was only a tween— what the reason was, he'll never know. One minute he was just walking along with Mr. Frodo on their way to Brandy Hall after his master was summoned by Mr. Saradoc, then Mr. Merry came with a handful of taters and tomatoes, bumping on them.

But when the words left his master's lips, his heart leapt to his throat in excitement, and his little legs suddenly moved along with Mr. Frodo's. They ran away from their camp, Mr. Pippin behind them, then stopped and hid in a bush. Sam's eyes were wide in wonder as he saw the tall, shiny figures.

"Listen! They are coming this way," said Frodo. "We only have to wait."

The singing drew nearer, and Sam felt light-headed, in a good way. He felt his spirits lift, his heart clench as the beauty of their voices reach his keen ears. He looked at Frodo and Pippin, whom grinned at him in return, amused at the wonder and delight that showed clearly on his eyes.

_Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!_  
_ O Queen beyond the Western Seas!_  
_ O Light to us that wander here_  
_ Amid the world of woven trees_

_Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!_  
_ Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!_  
_ Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee_  
_ In a far lane beyond the Sea._

_O stars that in the Sunless Year_  
_ With shining hand by her were sown,_  
_ In windy fields now bright and clear_  
_ We see your silver blossom blown!_

_O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!_  
_ We still remember, we who dwell_  
_ In this far land beneath the trees,_  
_ Thy starlight on the Western Seas._

"These are High Elves! They spoke the name of Elbereth!" whispered Frodo, awe in his voice. "Few of that fairest folk are ever seen in the Shire. Not many now remain in Middle-Earth, east of the Great Sea. This is indeed a strange chance!"

The Elves passed slowly, and the hobbits are almost blinded by a bright light that the Elves strangely carry around them, for they see the starlight glimmering on their hair and their eyes as well.

As the last Elf passed, he turned and looked towards the hobbits with glee.

"Hail, Frodo!" he cried. "You are abroad late. Or are you perhaps lost?" Then he called aloud to his companions, and the company stopped and gathered round.

Sam felt speechless as he saw the fair faces of these wonderful people. As much as he enjoyed— Lor, beyond enjoyed— meeting them, there was this annoying throbbing and thumping in his head that wouldn't go away. He'd felt it ever since he had awoken this morning, and tried his best to ignore it as much as he can for the sake of their journey.

Before he knew it, the darkness that had always been in the edge of his vision finally took him. But before Sam was even aware of it, he saw Mr. Frodo's eyes widen, but not anymore in delight.

* * *

"Sam?"

The voice sounded familiar, yet Sam found himself feeling anxious and scared. He forced himself to open his eyes. It was dark, but there was a bright light that seemed to surround a figure in front of him. An Elf, maybe? His vision became clearer, and there stood a figure with dark hair, and a pair of clear, blue eyes.

"Mr. Frodo?"

His throat felt itchy, but Sam forced the words out. The figure seemed calm and relax, and...tall?

"Mr. Frodo?" he cried, now with a desperate tone. A hand reached out to him, and Sam stilled. His vision became even clearer, and a woman stood— or rather, kneeled— in front of him, with her clear blue eyes and pale skin and long, black hair. Much like Mr. Frodo's, Sam mused. Her lips stretched into a gentle smile, whilst Sam's mouth involuntarily hang open.

"_Mae govannen_, Samwise Gamgee."

Sam did not move, cannot move. He closed his mouth with an effort and swallowed. The gentle smile widen a little more.

"Surely you remember me still?"

Sam nodded, and a small smile tugged in his face.

Still seeing the nervousness in the young hobbit, the Elf held Sam's hands to her softer and warmer ones, wishing to lessen the anxiety in his heart. It would not do well with the illness, after all.

Sam gulped. "D-did...Mr. Frodo..."

"Your kin had carried you back to your camp. We had only tended to you."

"But...Mr. Frodo...?"

The Elf leaned away slowly, turning her eyes away from his'. "Gildor, where is Frodo?"

A voice answered. "Asleep. Is it time to wake them?"

She nodded.

If Sam hadn't been so still, he wouldn't've been able to hear soft, gentle footsteps retreating from them, stopping after a few steps. There was a confused "_huh_?" from the drowsy Pippin, but Frodo started running when Gildor had mentioned Sam's name.

"Sam!"

Two other figures plopped down beside him, and in a matter of seconds his vision is filled with his Master's concerned face. Mr. Frodo's hair was a little disheveled than usual, his cheeks paler and lips set on a worried frown. Master Pippin's brows were furrowed, and the usual twinkle in his eye dimmed with concern.

Sam winced. Of all the things his Master should do, worrying about him isn't supposed to be one. And thus he tried to sit up, but Mr. Frodo planted his hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him down gently, his frown getting deeper. It was clear that he was not just worried— he's pissed. Sam felt his cheeks flush, and suddenly he wished Mr. Merry was here to remind Frodo of the priorities he'd got to sort out first before scolding his servant. Oh well, thought Sam.

But Frodo only sighed and caressed Sam's cheeks, shaking his head fondly. "Sam, my lad." he murmured.

"I'm really, really sorry, Mr. Frodo—"

"Hush, Sam." interrupted Frodo. He stood up and walked away, and Sam was ready to chase after him and console him, but Frodo was back, a basin of water in his hands. The silence was awkward, yet the Elves did not mind. They were simply sitting around the campfire, talking among themselves.

  
The Elf-maiden and Gildor were watching the three hobbits in amusement. Frodo plopped back down beside Pippin, fetched a clean cloth, and proceeded to dab on Sam's forehead and arms. Sam did not move during the whole thing, watching Frodo's face and how his lips seem to be set on a firm, straight line that even Pippin's foolish stunts and Merry's witty jests could not change.

"Thank you, Turwaithiel." Sam's thoughts were broken by Frodo's voice. The Elf-maiden handed his master a cup.

"Here's some ginger tea, Sam. Try to sit up, yes, that's a good lad."

Pippin and Turwaithiel moved to support him from behind, as Frodo placed the cup to his lips. Sam took small sips, and obediently finished the tea, and it seemed that the pain in his head lessened. The patience in Frodo's eyes and gestures made Sam flush, both in embarrassment and gratitude. He had offered a smile, and Frodo returned it with a shy, gentle one.

Frodo let him lie down again, placing the wet cloth on his forehead. Pippin returned from where he went, with bedrolls and pillows. Turwaithiel held the small blankets.

"Get some rest, Sam. We would only make a small journey tomorrow, to at least get out of the forest," his smile vanished, "to at least escape the Ringwraiths." he said in a whisper. Pippin shuddered. Turwaithiel and Gildor bowed their heads.

Frodo snapped out of his stupor and tucked Sam in blankets, like he was a little lad. Pippin set the bed rolls near Sam, and laid down with his own pillows and blankets. Turwaithiel gave Frodo a firm look, and he nodded.

When Frodo left and laid down to continue resting, Sam felt anxious yet again. Being in the company of Elves made him feel safe and happy, but without Frodo by his side, he felt lonely and nervous. He knew that he was close, that he was resting, but perhaps...

No. Sam isn't a wee lad anymore.

"Sam?"

Sam snapped his head up to look at the Elf-maiden— Turwaithiel, he recalled— and smiled. He had missed her. She had been gone for a long time, and Sam waited and waited and asked Frodo if she was going back, only to get a shrug and a reassuring smile, and obviously that was not an answer he was looking for.

"I'm... glad you're back, _Tilda_." Sam whispered, trying to lift the corners of his mouth to grin, but failing. His head was starting to ache once again, as if Frodo's presence was the only one to ease it like it did earlier.

Turwaithiel grinned and shook her head gently. "Oh, Sam," she said softly. "I had missed you dearly. I returned, like I had promised." She gathered Sam's hands on her own once more, and squeezed comfortingly. "Rest now, _tithen min_. We would be here until you wake up."

Sam closed his eyes and let the darkness consume him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Turwaithiel = Nicole, meaning "victory amongst people" (I actually forgot the real meaning, but I think it's close to that lol)
> 
> So, what do y'all think? I wasn't actually planning to do any backstory explaining Turwaithiel and what happened in their past, and how they developed their friendship. Too lazy, I guess. So, you're free to guess! :)


End file.
